


Of pillocks and sweet kisses

by di_lamerr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3668619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/di_lamerr/pseuds/di_lamerr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Fanfiction Writer Group on Facebook Attack of the Plot Bunny challenge - Bad luck comes in threes.<br/>You never quite know who will walk into your bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Finnigan, Potter, Weasley, maybe it is true bad luck comes in threes, three prats.  
“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.”  
Finnigan grinned “Milly! What the fuck you know about Casblanca?”  
Weasley found his voice, “Who cares about Casa whatever, what the bloody hell are you doing in a muggle bar Bulstrode?”  
I ignored him, it's easy, I figure his mother had to have been doing that his whole life, unlucky twat.  
“What are you doing in my bar you Irish bastard?”  
He laughed, “Milly I said I was sorry, give a bloke a chance.”  
“I'd sooner give you an avada, you set my bar top on fire you minging cunt!”  
Potter looked from him to me and back.  
“This is your friend with a bar? Are you trying to get me poisoned?”  
“Weasley doesn't seem to be scared, the bloody gannet is inhaling my snacks.” The pillock had the grace to blush, and order a larger, allowing Seamus to start on him  
“Real men drink Guinness Ron.”  
“Shite's too bitter.”  
Potter stood away from the bar looking unsure, I should take pity on him he's the saviour and all that tripe, “What are you drinking?”  
He stared at me, Seamus reached and yanked him forward by his collar, “Harry's having a whiskey, infact I'll have a bottle of your Ile special.”  
I looked the three of them over, making sure to meet their eyes.  
“If you three set anything on fire I'll send the goblins after you for damages. Understood.”  
Weasley gulped his drink, Seamus grinned, Potter continued to stare.

Two hours later Finnigan was singing, and flinging insults with the regulars watching cricket. Weasley was passed out after eating bangers and mash and a pork pie, then stuffing his gullet with whiskey.  
Potter like a lonely boy was sitting at the bar using all of his auror prowess on me to figure out why I didn't hate him.  
“Why didn't we know you were a half bloody Milly?”  
“Don't call me that.”  
He looked hurt, “Seamus calls you that.”  
“Seamus also shared my bed once, it's a bad habit to murder someone after you've fucked them.”  
Potter blushed, “Oh! I didn't realize you and Seamus.”  
“How are you an auror? We fucked once, what in my not killing him screams love and togetherness?”  
“Oh.”  
His eyes crept to my neckline not for the first time since he'd slid up to the bar, this time they stayed just a tad longer.  
Oh. Oh shite! I'm a pillock! He's trying to chat me up.  
I look at him them, really looked at him. He's still short, but he's got muscle in all the right places, and a sureness about himself that says he has nothing to prove, plus he is the savior of the wizarding world. Why not, I'm single.  
As his eyes lift he realizes I've been watching him, and blushes like a third year getting their first kiss. There's an innocence about Potter, I wonder how many women he's been with, and decide to add my name to that list  
I smile and he smiles back, fuck it, grab his collar and pull him forward, his lips taste like smoke, fire whiskey, peat, and salt. I release him, and he reaches for me, I let him kiss me, it's soft and sweet, his tongue nudging mine for dominance.  
Bad luck comes in threes, maybe not always.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing about these two will be easy. Not even a one night stand.  
> She's touchy, he prods where he really shouldn't.

I watch Finnigan and Potter struggle out the door with Weasley strung between them, I could have given or sold them a hang over potion but I'm petty, and Weasley's an ass.  
I hope Granger rakes his arse over hot coals. I can't believe she settled with him, and we thought the bint was smart.  
There's no guarantee Potter will be back, kiss or not. He stuffed his address in my apron as Weasley loudly complained that it was “time to leave or Mione will have my guts for garters.”  
I winked and told him I lived above and nothing was wrong with my bed. He gives me this measured look and I think I can see the good auror under that hair, and ugly glasses.  
I'm cleaning up the last stragglers finally gone, England trunced by the Proteas.  
I mean when you call yourselves the Barmy Army it's the height of ignorance to think your team's got a chance ain't it? But the boys hope, and win or lose they are loyal I'll give you that.

I'm swinging my wand for a last clean up in the dark when he knocks; leaning on my door jam, with a boyish grin on his face  
“I thought I should come back or you'd forget me.”  
I laugh, “Potter you're an idiot.”  
“What?”  
“The man who lived forgettable?”  
“Said the woman who refused to come to mine.”  
“Is that it? The bints you used to just drop everything and their knickers?”  
“Don't you make anything easy Bulstrode?”  
I laugh, I know it's harsh and cold, “No.”  
He walks towards me, and with my boots off I realize he's my height flat foot, well shite I remember when I towered above him. Fuck me for not growing since second year!  
He's standing in front of me, looking at me with those pretty eyes and smiling like the happiest kid in creche.  
“You don't scare me Milly. You can't be mean and think I'll run away, we're not kids anymore.”  
Oh Potter, don't get cocky. I lean in, “No but I can avada you and transfigure your arse into a nice pot.”  
He grabs ahold of my braid, and gives a gentle tug,  
“Is that it? You like a bite in your lovers?”  
“I was a Slytherin, we expect to be challenged.”  
Maybe I'm an idiot challenging him but it's with my mouth not a wand I figure I'm safe. I read the Prophet, I talk to Daphne and Draco, this man is considered a damn good auror, and he's no boy. It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose.  
He's smiling again, Saint Potter you like a bite yourself? No wonder you and your Gryffindor princess didn't last.  
He wraps my braid around his hand and steps closer, I step back and he lets me, yes lets me, with my braid if he wanted to he could just pull and stop me, instead he keeps backing me up wicked smile on his face, and I let him just like he lets me, cause the only thing behind me is the bar and the door upstairs.  
When I'm pressed against the door we stop, “Are you finished down here?”  
I flick my wand, the door locks, the wards slide up and I nod. He gives a step back enough for me to turn the door to upstairs, but he's still holding on to my bloody braid.  
He's silent on the walk up the stairs, infact I'm pretty sure he's found Snape's shoe maker, but I don't ask because I don't want to talk about Hogwarts, and the shite that brings up, what I want is this man toying with my hair and corset ties as we climb.  
I don't give him a guided tour, I turn the corner at the top of the first flight and keep going, the attic is my favorite part of the house. He makes a low appreciative sound,  
“I see why you prefer yours.”  
I smile, I'm proud of my bar, my home, but this space is my refuge, I know it sings with love.  
Potter plays with the strings of my corset again reminding me why he's here, as I head towards the bed.  
“Are the strings that interesting Potter?”  
“I never took you for a Madam Rosmerta type.”  
“Really? Cause you ever thought of me in this way?”  
We laugh, “You were a bully Milly, of course not”  
“Hmmm?”  
Silence, he's still playing with my strings, but right now I'm considering tossing his arse out if he says one more stupid thing, bloody Gryffindor.  
"You must admit..."  
I pull away, and head towards the bathroom, he can watch me take a bath if he means sex must come with conversation.  
“I was a half blood, the daughter of a blood traitor in a house that loathed who I was.” I flick my wand at the tub and start rummaging through my bath salts stash, smelling as I go.  
“I had to prove that my muggle blood hadn't weakened me, Merlin forbid that I was actually better than them.”  
I toss in a handfuls from different jars, citrus, lavender, ylang ylang, and reach for my clasp, he's there unlacing me, fingers nimble but not sure. I should correct him, tell him he's doing it wrong, but men usually take correction as an insult. It's only this one time so I keep my trap shut.  
“That's where Granger made a mistake, she wanted to prove she was a witch. I had enough sense to keep my head down and feet in both worlds. Don't poke the snake”  
“But you left?”  
“Why stay? Do you know how hard it's been for Slytherins from my year to get jobs? I like Draco, but Circe's knickers to be year mates of the man who let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts is almost to be complicit in some people's eyes. I had no wealth, my father was disowned so no connections. I took my A levels went to uni and had three good years being a normal person and it felt amazing.”  
I shimmy out of my skirt; boy shorts I've been told make my arse look great, I take the possessive hand that palms it as truth. Thank you ladies rugby.  
“I wasn't going to go back to people treating me like shite. I worked here when I was at school, when it came up for sale I knew a good thing. I sunk every penny my gran left me in it, sold my first born to for the rest. it was worth it.”  
I hold the corset closed as I turn, “Look Potter you saved the world, but the prejudice that caused it on both sides? Still there.”  
He gives me this sad look and Merlin I want to kiss it better, “I didn't mean to remind you of.. you know everything.”  
“Hell you walking into my bar did that, I should have tossed you out.”  
I let the corset fall then and step out of my panties, corsetry has given me what mother nature didn't, a feminine shape; and no children means my breast haven't started the slow decent into hell most of my friends complain about, thank fuck! I start on my braid.  
He hefts a breast running a finger over a nipple, I want to ask messy questions like- why did you marry a woman with barely the bosom of a girl who looked like your mother? I said I was petty.  
“So Draco?”  
“Is a guilt ridden man who needs to be left alone.”  
He quirks his brow up, “Really?”  
His Snape needs work, I step away.  
“Strip or go make yourself a cup of tea, either way I'm not talking about Draco bloody Malfoy”  
“Why are you protective of Draco?”  
“Who else will protect us if not our friends?”  
“I didn't realize you were friends?”  
“I didn't think it mattered if you just wanted a fuck. If you don't like it get to fuck out Potter and take your Gryffindor sensibilities with you.”  
“I'm just asking..”  
“No you are poking where you have no business. You would have been a great lay, but all this isn't worth it. The wards will let you out.”  
I turn my back and head to the tub, fuck this narrow minded shite! Walks into my bar with tosser as thick as two short planks that he's been mate with from firsties, but picking at my friends. Gryffindors!”  
“Are you serious?”  
“Come back when you've figured out how to mind your own business.”


	3. 3

Three days later Granger walks in during the craziness of lunch, and I truly regret ever speaking to Seamus as she gives me a perturbed look  
“Granger.”  
“Bulstrode.”  
“So you are still doing his thinking? Christ!”  
She laughs, Antoinette one of the squibs who works with me drops a pint when she catches sight of Granger, and I curse  
“Merlin Bulstrode you have the mouth of a long-shore man!”  
I cut my eye at her as Antoinette scrambles for the mop bucket. I do not have time for this shite.  
Its another hour before I nod my head towards my door, this isn't a conversation for ears down here.  
There's a spread on the table, hand pies and the froo froo galettes that one of the elves does; Granger's lips fold into a surprised O, “You have elves?”  
“No I have employees who are elves. They get paid and they turned my cellar into a elf bloody Hogshead .”   
“Really? I'd be interested..”  
“In talking to them, of course you are, you'll have to wait til lunch service is over for a chin wag.”   
She smiles, I nod, “What do you want?”  
She picks a slice of veg galette and gives me this look that's better suited to big sisters on playgrounds, not in dining rooms talking about the fact that I wasn't the slag he thought I would be.  
“He's just surprised..”  
“That I threw him out? Christ I'm not his wife!”  
She sighed.  
“Why are you here Granger?”   
“I overheard them talking. I decided to see what your side was.”  
I reach for a pie, “My side? You mean you came to see why your golden boy wanted to fuck the cow?”  
She stutters, I ignore it, hell Slytherins pop in from time to time to see if the rumors are true, nothing new.  
“He was picking at things that had nothing to do with him. I told him he could come back when he minded his manners, since he was a Gryffindor I expect that'll be never.”  
“Do you even like Harry?”  
“Bloody hell haven't you ever had a fuck with a fit bloke?”  
“Bulstrode!”  
“Call me Millicent, I read you once turned into an intellectual version of my cat.” I smirk, “and you want to talk about my sex life.”  
“I don't want to talk about your sex life! I want to know why you tossed my friend out.”  
I groaned, not an iota of common sense this one. “If you want to know why I tossed a man I had every intention of fucking at that time out; that's my sex life Granger.”  
“Please Hermione.”  
“Fine.”  
I give her a minute to sip her water, and remind herself that she thought this was a good idea at some point.  
Magical folk are bad with bluntness, and coming from a Slytherin it catches them off guard, we rarely say what we think, kings and queens of obstrufication we are. She was prepared for pure blood politicking, I only go to Diagon Alley when I have no other choice. I've gone muggle and I like it.  
“Millicent, Harry isn't like he was at school, he doesn't just go leaping into things.”  
I snigger, the Prophet says otherwise, my bed's near escape the same; she shoots me another of her looks like I'm her idiot boyfriend.  
“Harry is a decent bloke … ”  
She drones on and I remember that this bint was just like this at school, no wonder Snape didn't like her, just give the information in a clear concise manner.  
“Oi, this is taking too long, the guys from water works get lunch in a bit, I'll be needed downstairs.”  
She gives me a hard look, “You don't care about him?”  
“Granger, Hermione it was supposed to be a one night stand!”  
She shrugs, “He was asking Seamus how he could get to know you better.”  
Bloody hell.  
I ignore the pie on my plate, “I don't know Granger, it was that one night, he's not sent an owl, a letter, or stopped in. Maybe he's not interested?”  
She shakes her head, and stands, “He'll be back.” 

I hate to admit it, she's right.  
I'm standing in my rugby uniform splattered with mud, knees bleeding, feeling like I won the Lotto tasting blood when from the corner of my eye I catch sight of that hair; that two foot short shite is pissing about on the side lines smiling, and talking with the families, (ladies rugby doesn't really have many fans).  
If I didn't leave my wand home I'd hex his bollocks off, statutes of secrecy be damned!   
I step into the scrum, bloody Harry Potter!


End file.
